The Morning After
by akinorev
Summary: They spent the night in each other's arms, but what did that make them? B/V one-shot


A/N: A little something for everyone who reviewed my other stories, especially Complexities. I am still not sure how I plan to continue with that one, but thanks to y'all reviewers and readers! :D

The Morning After

And the deed was done.

Soft pants filled the room, breaking the odd, yet comforting silence between the 2 occupants of the room. At last, she felt her thunderous heartbeat slow down, and she wondered idly if he could hear it too. Lying on her back and staring at the ceiling, she felt the tips of her outstretched hand grazing against him with every deep breath he took. She braved a look at him from the corner of her eye, and found him lying on his stomach, his face cushioned against her silk pillows. It looked odd, ridiculous even, that he, the epitome of manliness, would take comfort in something so frilly and girly, like her pink pillowcase. She stifled a giggle, lest she break their…their what, exactly? They spent the night in each other's arms, but what did that make them? Friends? Unlikely. Lovers, perhaps? The thought immediately sobered her up, and with a near audible gulp, she took her eyes from his muscular form and stared at nothing in particular. Anywhere but him.

She didn't want to think about it, but she couldn't halt the negative thoughts anyway. Figures, that when all she wanted to do was to not think, her over analytical mind would do it anyway. Ending up in bed with him tonight was the last thing on her mind yesterday, what with the company's annual party. She was attracted to him, sure, and while she may have thought about it a hundred different times, she knew that a relationship with him was damn near impossible, not with him being her dearest friend's rival. At least not until now.

She remembered attending the ball in a little black number that fit her like a glove, showing off a generous amount of skin while keeping it on the classy, sexy side. She felt all eyes on her when she entered the ballroom, but it was the heat of his gaze that made her burn, a slow, scorching burn. Her blue eyes sought him out, and clashed with his bottomless blacks as he stood against the far end wall. She remembered inviting him to the party during breakfast, but he only grunted and stared at her until she had the grace to blush and look away. But here he was in the flesh, looking dashing in a black button up and black slacks ensemble. We match, she idly noted, and her gaze traveled up his body until she noticed his eyes, and her heart jumped to her throat. His gaze looked positively feral and she felt like she was his prey. She knew she should be deathly afraid of him then, but her traitorous body reacted otherwise. His eyes burned a path up her body, from the gladiator stilettos she wore, to her mid-thigh corset dress, up her bare décolletage, until they settled on her face, and then he smirked like the devil he was. Someone nudged her side, and she found herself looking up at the grim face of her ex, Yamucha. He wanted the first dance with her, it seemed, but she was too engrossed with Vegeta to pay attention to anything else. She decided to ignore Yamucha, for he's not an ex for nothing, and turned back to where she first found Vegeta, but he was gone.

She didn't see him after that, so she decided to enjoy herself anyway, but she knew he was watching her, if the tingling of her skin was any indication. Courtesy of the light buzz from the alcohol she'd been consuming, she found herself swaying alone to the hired band's sensual jazz music in the midst of the crowd, until she felt fingertips slowly ascending her raised arms. Turning around, she found herself pressed up against a deliciously masculine chest, and throwing all caution to the wind, she danced for him, only him, until the song ended. At least that was her plan, until she found herself lip-locked with him in the middle of the song. The friction of his tongue against hers rendered her boneless, but he gathered her up against him and she was happy to let him sweep her off her feet. His mouth dragged down the column of her neck, and as she dragged another breath, she whispered, "Not here." He stopped ravishing her then, and she nearly groaned at the loss of contact. But he leveled her a look that she wasn't quite sure how to interpret, and he searched her face for something she didn't know she had. Whatever it was, he probably found it, for she suddenly found herself breathlessly tossed on her bed, him looming over her. Indeed, his super strength and speed can come in handy. She waited for him to kiss her senseless again, but he held himself steady over her with his arms. The darkness of the room kept her from seeing his expression, but she sensed his hesitation. He was being a gentleman, in his own dark princely way. The thought made her smile, and bringing her hands to his dark, fiery mane, she made the decision for him as she kissed him with all the passion she had until he responded with equal fervor.

The sex itself was nothing but a representation of him: a contradiction. His touches were feather light, like he was afraid he would hurt her if he used more than an ounce of his strength, but she felt on fire everywhere he touched. His kisses made her toes curl, but she felt it to her very soul. And when he finally entered her, it was sweet pain as he filled her completely but at the same time, she felt he was holding himself back. Despite it all, she knew that it was probably the best sex she has ever had. Though that really wasn't saying much, seeing as she only had one other man to compare him too. Being a true closet romantic at heart, one night stands were never her thing, but the thought that this night with Vegeta might be a "wham, bam, thank you, ma'am" moment settled heavily on her stomach. She dared another glance at him, but was caught off guard by his dark eyes. He was facing her now, but gone was his smoldering gaze, replaced by clear indifference and rigid apathy. She had never felt him more out-of-reach to her than now, when they mere inches apart. Her hands sought to reach out to him again, but she steeled herself against him.

Caring none for her nakedness, she turned from him and stood up from the bed. She felt his gaze on her as she donned her night gown but she ignored him and the butterflies on her stomach. Pausing at the entry to her bathroom, she spared him a cold glance before disappearing inside.

"You can show yourself out."

Exhaling a breath of air through his nose, he laid on his back when Bulma disappeared from his sight. He wanted to tear off and blast the offending garment that covered her delectable nakedness from his eyes, but he knew it was better that way. He should have given her bottom a sound spanking for dismissing him like he was a mere servant, but instead a smirk fought its way to his mouth. She's got spunk, that much he'd give her, and under different circumstances he would gladly take her as his. He remembered seeing her for the first time in Namek, a mere slip of a girl who could do nothing but hide and watch like a frightened rabbit. Oh, how he wanted to blast her there and then. But the midget and the half-breed were there to protect her, and he had better things to do. But Namek changed her, for when they all came on this mudball called Earth, the easily frightened girl was gone, replaced by the confident, strong, beautiful woman who was clearly in her element, whether it be inside the lab, on the battlefield, or naked with him in bed. And he wanted her still, consequences be damned. But that was damn near impossible.

He decided, there and then, that she will keep it and take care of it. She may hate him for it, sure, but he knew that her beautiful nature will love it with her very soul. And there it was again, the flicker of life in her womb, a faint but a strong, steady pulse.


End file.
